


Semantics

by bagma



Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagma/pseuds/bagma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is porn an art form? Casey and Zeke are in disagreement about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semantics

“No, no, no! Not like that!” Casey cried with exasperation as Zeke turned his back on him and bent forward at the waist, presenting Casey with the sight of long muscular legs topped by a perfectly rounded backside. It was a spectacular display, and Casey couldn't help but notice the way Zeke's naked skin shone, golden and satiny in the light of early fall that flooded Casey's studio -formerly known as the attic of his parents' house-, but he was not going to let himself being distracted by it. He had work to do. “I already told you a million times, we're not shooting porn! I'm trying to take erotic pictures here!” 

Zeke didn't answer immediately. He just peered at Casey over his shoulder, and Casey couldn't miss the mischievous glint in his lover-turned-model's dark eyes. The lazy and sensuous wiggle of the bare ass was rather hard to miss, too. Casey bit back a groan and shifted uneasily as the state of arousal he had been in ever since Zeke had taken off his clothes went from pleasant to uncomfortable in a matter of seconds, leaving him with the disturbing feeling that all the blood that wasn't located in his head had rushed down to his crotch. Red ears and blue balls... He had been sporting that particular coloring a lot lately. 

“That's bullshit,” Zeke drawled without taking his eyes off Casey. “There's no difference between eroticism and pornography. Both make my dick hard, and those that don't agree with me are just artsy-fartsy jerks. Just look at me right now... Is that porn or eroticism?... You sure can't tell the difference.” By way of illustration, he braced his hands on his knees and spread his legs a little more, the heavy swell of his balls and cock clearly visible between his strong thighs.

In a valiant effort to gather his lust-addled wits, Casey looked away. He wasn't as successful as he'd have liked, though; the image of Zeke's ass seemed to be indelibly seared into most of his neurons and seriously impairing their functioning. He started fiddling with his camera, fumbling for a retort that wouldn't make him sound like a complete moron.

“I don't think I'm an artsy-fartsy jerk, but I do have some... uh... standards. You have to admit porn is often ugly, while erotic art is... well, art, so there's some aesthetic research in it. And there's the question of good taste... porn is so tasteless!... ” he said at last, not sure he sounded very convincing, and quite aware he hadn't really answered Zeke's question. He kept his eyes firmly on his camera lest he lost the remainder of his brain power, but Zeke's hearty laugh caught him by surprise and he couldn't help raising his head to see what had caused Zeke's hilarity.

“Are you saying my ass is tasteless, Casey? I'm starting to feel insulted!” Laughter was making Zeke's back ripple and his shoulders shake, but he kept his provocative position. He even added a little more lewdness to it by wiggling his butt, arching his neck and throwing his head back theatrically.

Casey found himself staring open-mouthed at the spectacle for what felt like a very long time, but it mustn't have been more than a couple seconds before he regained enough control of his faculties to put his camera on the floor and start walking purposefully towards the tease. Two could play at that game, and it was time for Casey to get back on top, so to speak. Besides, his deadline was coming up in five days and he wasn't really in a hurry. He could allow himself a brief pause, and it was obvious that Zeke too could use a little distraction, along with some impromptu lesson in semantics.

Casey strode swiftly and silently across the room and, kneeling behind Zeke, grabbed the firm buttocks and spread them without warning. Zeke jumped and let out a startled gasp that turned into a heartfelt Oh yeah as Casey ran his tongue up the crease of Zeke's ass, only to retreat after a few teasing flicks at his hole. For a fleeting moment, he toyed with the idea of coming back to work right now as if nothing had happened, just to teach Zeke not to mess with Casey's artistic endeavors, but Zeke's scent and taste, the feel of the silky skin and the hard muscles shifting under Casey's hands, the shameless way Zeke pushed his ass back against Casey's face were too good to be ignored. Besides, Zeke had been driving him out of his mind with his teasing since the beginning of the session, and Casey thought it was only fair to repay him in kind.

It wasn't as though Zeke was giving him a choice anyway. As soon as he had felt Casey move back, he had reached back and grasped a handful of Casey's hair, keeping him firmly in place. Casey gave a muffled chuckle and resumed licking, delicately at first, then more boldly, and all question about vocabulary, deadlines and photo contests disappeared in the heat of the moment. 

It was hard to tell which of them was enjoying himself the most, Casey thought as he gorged himself on Zeke's ass, kneading the firm buttocks with eager hands and working his tongue up and down the slightly furred cleft and around Zeke's hole with increasing enthusiasm. Zeke was expressing his satisfaction with his usual lack of inhibition, but Casey was still amazed at the unexpected pleasure he himself took in rimming. If someone had told him six months ago that he'd get off on licking another guy's asshole, he would probably have died of embarrassment at the mere suggestion that he could do such a thing. But then there were a lot of things the shy and anxious Casey from last year thought he would never be able to do. Along with starring in his own SF story, which, to be perfectly honest, hadn't turned out to be as glamor in real life as it used to be in his dreams, having sex with Zeke Tyler had ranked pretty high on his list of impossible exploits. 

And there he was, his tongue up the object of his fantasies' ass and enjoying every seconds of the process. He only regretted it had taken him so long to dare reciprocate after Zeke had tried it on him. There must have been some timorous and hygiene-obsessed residue of the old Casey lingering in the brand new one, but now it seemed to have entirely disappeared in favor of a much more adventurous -and a lot less frustrated- streak. More and more often these days Casey found himself suggesting things to do in bed instead of just following Zeke's lead, and although he hadn't managed to shock him yet, he still had had some success in surprising him. Not that Zeke, being his usual hedonistic self, hadn't taken things in stride, of course, and drew as much as pleasure as he could from Casey's new-found confidence and inventiveness.

It was exactly what Zeke was doing at the moment, panting and whimpering shamelessly, urging Casey on with words that made Casey blush hotter and ramped up his excitement to an almost unbearable level. His jaw was starting to ache, his erection was pressed painfully against the zipper of his jeans and he could feel Zeke straining to maintain his uncomfortable position, but these were minor inconveniences in comparison with the sheer delight of having Zeke so completely at his mercy. Right on clue, Zeke moaned, his voice tight and filled with the mixture of ecstasy and panic that Casey had learned to recognize as a sure sign that his lover was nearing orgasm: 

“Casey... please... you're killing me here... I can't... Oh fuck!” The breathless plea ended in a cry as Casey slid his hand between Zeke's trembling thighs and, after a quick grope at his tightening balls, began stroking his cock. He felt a trickle of pre-come run down the hard shaft, but the paper thin skin was so taut and hot that the moisture dried almost instantly. It was a good thing Zeke didn't seem to mind the friction, because Casey wasn't sure he could have stopped to get lube. A shudder shook Zeke's whole body, and Casey felt heath pool in his own belly. He could tell the first sparks of climax were starting to course through Zeke, making him buck wildly between Casey's hand and tongue and igniting answering tingles into Casey's palms and thighs .

At last Zeke stiffened and let out a hoarse cry, shaking and coming in hot waves that drenched Casey's hand and left him clinging to the last shreds of his self-control. Zeke's knees buckled, and Casey barely had the presence of mind to catch him and help him lie onto the floor before plucking frantically at his zipper. His cock all but leaped into his hand, pushing through the tunnel of his curled fingers as though it had a mind of its own, and Casey saw the milky-white plume of his come spray all over Zeke's chest and belly before he even registered his climax had begun. Then ecstasy hit him hard and he closed his eyes, arching and whimpering and gasping for breath as he let himself drown in the whirl of pleasure. 

The first thing he saw after his world had stopped spinning and regained some solidity was Zeke watching him with a lazy and satisfied grin. He was lying on the hard floor, looking as comfortable and relaxed as he did lounging on the couch, legs spread, his long fingers drawing idle patterns through the pool of come on his belly.

“Well then, what do you think? You haven't answered the question yet... Was that porn or eroticism?” Zeke's tone was playful, but his eyes met Casey's with unexpected earnestness. 

Casey knelt back on his heels and considered his lover. Zeke's lean body gleamed like burnished bronze in the sun and the slanted rays of light made his ribcage and hipbones stand in sharp relief, leaving the hollow of his belly in shadow. They also caused the soft silky curve of his spent cock to be quite unmistakable, nestled as it was in dark curls dotted with glistening droplets of semen. 

“Oh, definitely porn,” Casey said with a touch of regret. “Don't get me wrong, you look stunning like this... I'll take the picture, but there's no way I can use it for the photo contest,” he added somewhat wistfully. He paused to trail his fingers down Zeke's splayed thighs and cupped his balls gently. “I've changed my mind about one thing, though; porn isn't always ugly. I just have to look at you to see it can be beautiful.” 

Zeke snorted.

“It depends on the model, of course,” he said, sounding very pleased with himself. Then his expression changed and he went on, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “But you know what?... It's entirely possible it depends a little on the photograph's talent, too... So, we are a good match, don't you think?” 

His hand joined Casey's, squeezing it. Casey's palm was pressed against the soft skin of Zeke's genitals, but the gesture was more tender than erotic, almost chaste, if such thing was possible where Zeke was concerned. 

Casey felt himself grin so widely that he was sure he looked like a goof, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the smile he could see tugging at the corners of his lover's full mouth, a smile that was the mirror image of the one Casey knew he was sporting: soppy, awed, and ridiculously happy. 

He leaned forward, brushed his traitorous lips against Zeke's and murmured:

“Yeah, I think we are.”


End file.
